


Cursed Orbs of Deliciousness

by RarePairGremlin



Series: All The Kisses [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, No Angst, crying kiss, cursed orbs of deliciousness, damn onions, kiss meme, lightly edited, this is just silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 03:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19862665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RarePairGremlin/pseuds/RarePairGremlin
Summary: A crying kiss for TsukiNoya (no angst just pure silliness).





	Cursed Orbs of Deliciousness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [huiiiii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/huiiiii/gifts).



> Hey again my babes! Working on a lot right now so posting is slow but thanks for the patience. Glad to know a few of you outside my close circle are enjoying the kiss series! 
> 
> [ CuriousCat ](https://curiouscat.me/RarePairGremlin) | [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/RarePairGremlin)

The rhythmic sound of chopping was usually quite soothing for him. Especially during times when Nishinoya isn’t home to interrupt. He'd be asking Tsukishima a million questions and stealing pieces of the vegetables or cooked meat when he thinks he’s not looking. It’s why he started prepping meals before Nishinoya got home. So he could actually enjoy the continuous sound of the knife as it sliced through something into the cutting board beneath with soft thunks. He was once told it was an odd thing to find comforting, even soothing at times. But Tsukishima learned long ago not to give too many shits about what others thought about him.

At least he tries not to. Admittedly some things still tend to get to him. But it's not as much as it used to be, so he counts that as progress.

Sniffling, he blinked away the gathering moisture around his waterline. He tilted his head back in a terrible attempt at keeping the forming tears from slipping down his cheeks. Cursing when he felt the warm trail of one betraying his wishes Tsukishima sniffled again. While he enjoys the act of cooking, loves how the almost musical sounds make him feel, he does not enjoy the fucking onions.

Huffing out he leaned forward to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater. Sniffling into the material as he rid his face of the tacky, salty trails on his skin Tsukishima whispered out another curse. Setting the knife and cursed orb of deliciousness down, he slid the sleeves of his sweater up. Rolling his shoulders he blinked a few times, sucked in a few breaths, and dove back into the task. Thankfully the recipe only required half of the onion he was currently murdering so it shouldn’t take too long to end his torture.

At least it shouldn’t have taken too long, but, of course, shit happens. Mistakes get made. Regrets are had.

Tsukishima was in the middle of his little dance again, where he tilts his head back, blinks, curses then wipes his eyes, when he made one of the worst decisions you could ever do. At least when chopping onions. He wiped at his eyes with the tips of his fingers. The ones that had been gripping the cursed orb of deliciousness seconds ago.

_I’ve been dating that dumbass too long, his nicknames for things are rubbing off on me…_

And the juices from it were effectively saturated into the delicate skin of his eyelids.

Gasping as his whole body froze, fingers still pressed into the corner of his eyes, Tsukishima immediately knew he’d fucked up. After a moment of shock, just as the tingling began spreading across the skin he’d been touching, Tsukishima yanked off his glasses. Tossing them onto the counter with a clatter, slammed his hands onto the counter and began feeling around for the cloth he’d set out earlier. His vision quickly blurred and the tingling intensified until it was a mix of burning and stinging little needle pricks. Curses flowed from his lips like a waterfall and he’s sure that he knocked the knife onto the floor near his feet.

Moving his palms along the surface of the counter he moved over the freshly chopped vegetables. A bowl, the pan he was going to fry everything in, and finally he gripped the square material. Pulling it against his chest Tsukishima relied on muscle memory to find the sink across the room. He knocked his knee against the trash can, stubbed his toe on the edge of the island, or was it a stool?, before arriving at the sink. Turning on the cold water he stuck the clothes on the bottom of the sink to soak it. Cupping his hands he leaned over the stream and started splashing water into his eyes. It wasn’t the best or smartest way to deal with the situation but it was all he could think of at the moment.

Slowly but surely, the burning went down. The stinging, pinprick sensation remained but dulled to more of an annoyance than painful. Sighing Tsukishima turned the tap off. Wringing out the now freezing cold cloth into the sink he dared to flutter than blink his sore eyes open. He caught his blurry reflection in the window above the sink and winced. His eyes looked red and definitely puffy even through the hazy filter blocking his vision. Cursing out under his breath for the millionth time in a short time span, he decided to sit down for a bit and wait till he could see clearly enough to finish cooking without risking a digit. Or a burn.

Slumping into the sofa Tsukishima laid back, slapped the cloth over his eyes and willed himself to relax. As fate would have it, Nishinoya came home just minutes after he laid down. Huffing into the hand that held the cloth against his skin Tsukishima listened to the shuffling. It was another mixture of sounds he found stupidly soothing. The jingle of keys, the thud of shoes being tossed wherever. The slide of clothing as Nishinoya shrugged out of his sweater and pants. The man couldn’t come home and not strip down to his boxers and tank top or T-shirt.

_Least he picks up his clothes. I can’t understand how someone can pick up their clothes no problem but always, always, forget to put their shoes where they belong. It's not a difficult concept. The shoes go on the shoe rack._

He heard the footsteps drawing closer. Tsukishima opened his mouth to shout out not to touch the vegetables but jerked in surprise when a weight flopped into his lap.

“What the fu-?” his voice came out more gravely than expected, the words broke off as he was suddenly staring into the wide, concerned yet dark gaze of his boyfriend. At least his brain accepted it was Nishinoya, his eyes were still a bit unreliable. Even this close without his glasses he’d usually be able to see, yet the damn onion decided to make him blinder than he normally was.

He was shocked into complete silence when Nishinoya’s hands cupped his damp cheeks. His eyes widened when Nishinoya’s thumbs smoothed over the skin of his cheeks, sweeping up under his sore eyes and back down his cheeks again. He felt Nishinoya’s weight shift before he saw him lean in. Nishinoya’s chapped lips pressed against the corner of his eye making him flutter them shut. His breath hitched in and out in gusts as Nishinoya carefully laid kiss after kiss around the shape of his eye. Tsukishima shuddered when the barely-there kisses moved from his eye over the curve of his nose and across the other eye.

It was over too soon and he was opening his eyes to look up at Nishinoya again in what felt like mere seconds. He still couldn’t see but he looked back at what seemed to be the general direction of Nishinoya’s stare. The hands slipped from his face to his chest.

“ _Who_ made you cry?” Nishinoya’s voice was clipped as he asked. It had Tsukishima creasing his brow in confusion, his eyes squinting as they tried to focus more. Instead, they welled up with moisture again which he had to blink rapidly away before they formed into tears.

“What?” his throat itched as he spoke but it sounded better than it had.

“I will end them. I swear. Nobody makes you cry and gets away with it,”

“Yuu…” Tsukishima started, rolling his eyes into the back of his skull.

“No. None of your-” Nishinoya sat up on Tsukishima’s lap, hands dropping the cloth onto his chest as he brought his hands up to his face. Curling his fingers he made what Tsukishima supposed was meant to look like glasses around his eyes, an attempt at an impression of him. Huffing out Tsukishima watched Nishinoya with well-hidden amusement. “ _I can take care of myself, dumbass. Who do you think I am? Tch_ stuff! Who made you cry!?” Nishinoya slapped his hands down onto his knees as he leaned in so close the tips of their noses brushed.

Tsukishima could finally see clearly enough that he saw his own reflection in Nishonoya’s pupils. It honestly did look like someone had made him cry. Something that barely ever happens which is more than likely why Nishinoya was acting up like he was. It had a light heat sweeping through Tsukishima. A sensation that happened whenever Nishinoya did something to make him feel loved. A sensation that after so long, he was still unused to.

Looking away Tsukishima pushed Nishinoya back until he could sit up. Nishinoya reluctantly sat back onto the sofa but his eyes never left Tsukishima’s face as he waited for an answer. He watched Tsukishima rub at his face. His skin was red all the way down to his neck, the skin around his eyes swollen and definitely darker than the rest of his skin. When he’d looked at Tsukishima’s eyes they were heavily veined, wet and also pink. Someone had hurt him and Nishinoya would not forgive them, no matter who they were. Dammit, he would get revenge on-

“The onion,”

Startling out of his inner monologue Nishinoya blinked dumbly at Tsukishima, who still had yet to look at him again.

“The what now?”

“The ‘cursed orb of deliciousness’,”

It still took him a second to figure out why Tsukishima was talking about food. When flashes of Tsukishima tearing up while chopping the item in question realization finally set in. Snapping his finger in understanding Nishinoya looked around for the offender. Getting up onto his knees he glanced over the back of the sofa to see the knife and what appeared to be an already half gone onion sitting on the floor.

“The one on the floor?” looking over his shoulder he was met with Tsukishima’s squinting gaze.

“Do you see any other one?” Tsukishima snapped but there was no real heat behind it. There hasn’t been for a long time.

Nodding firmly Nishinoya launched himself over the back of the sofa, landing on the soles of his feet with an echoing thunk. Tsukishima barked out something but Nishinoya was a man on a mission. Stomping over to where the knife and doomed orb of deliciousness lay, he bent over as close as he could to stare it down with daggers in his eyes. Pressing his fists into his hips Nishinoya spoke loud and clear to the onion while Tsukishima watched him over the sofa with a deadpanned face.

“You have made my boyfriend cry. Now you will suffer,” swiping out one of his hands, Nishinoya grasped the offender so tightly the layers cracked open. Walking over to the trashcan Nishinoya stomped the lid open. He then whipped the onion into the bag so hard it smacked against the bottom and crinkled the bag. Releasing the tab that lifted the lid Nishinoya struck a gleeful pose with his fists coming back up to rest on his hips in Tsukishima’s direction. Victory was his.

“Satisfied?”

“Yes,” he puffed up his chest. He knew Tsukishima couldn’t see it without his glasses and it still looked like his eyes were watering. But he did it anyway.

“Why am I dating you?” flopping back onto the sofa Tsukishima pulled the warmed cloth back over his eyes.

“‘Cus I’d fight the world for you,” Nishinoya called out without hesitation. The declaration had Tsukishima blushing so hotly his eyes began burning again. The warming sensation surged through him and a ringing in his ears had him flustered.

“F-fuck off!” he grumbled out to which Nishinoya just chuckled.

Several minutes passed before Tsukishima regained control over the pigmentation of his face. Once the sensation fizzled out and the ringing lessened he clued into the telltale sound of soft crunching. Shooting up to glare over the sofa again he caught Nishinoya reaching for the pile of chopped food. A slice of carrot hanging out the side of his mouth as he stared back at Tsukishima with wide-eyed innocence.

“Stop stealing the vegetables you ass!”


End file.
